


Circumscription

by Diotima_Philosopher



Series: Catharsis [9]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28122228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diotima_Philosopher/pseuds/Diotima_Philosopher
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi now have a forbidden relationship. They have resolved to keep to honorable limits...no matter how difficult it is.But now that Obi-Wan allows himself to have emotions, has he left himself open to greater pain?
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Catharsis [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764220
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Circumscription

Qui-Gon stood uneasily before the door to the Jedi Council Chamber. These days, any time Qui-Gon was summoned to the Council, he would have some disquiet, because living this life of deception that he now led with Obi-Wan, he always felt that someone somehow suspected him.

Qui-Gon was not good at being something he was _not._ If he had been, he would have been able to dissemble for his old Master, Dooku, and have pleased Dooku by pretending to be the Padawan his Master had always wanted. If he had been, he would have been able to be a sophist with words, and political in his opinions, and would have been a far less controversial Jedi Master.

 _I have never been such a person,_ Qui-Gon thought, grimacing. _I have always spoken directly from my heart._

But now, his _heart_ was what made him have to pretend to be other than what he was. He lived in constant fear of hurting Obi-Wan. If Qui-Gon was denounced for the secret relationship he now had with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon would be banished, the same way that Stagos Ysi had been, and where would Obi-Wan be then?

Qui-Gon had promised _never_ to abandon Obi-Wan.

 _I can’t think of Obi-Wan now_. Qui-Gon thought. _Not_ _now._

When Qui-Gon entered the council chamber, to his relief Mace Windu was alone. If Qui-Gon was to be accused of something, certainly he would have been summoned by the entire Council? But then his mind, having reassured itself, turned it around, to worry at it again. Perhaps this private meeting was to speak of something shameful, disgusting, an _apechthema—_

Almost automatically, as he always did these days, Qui-Gon forced his mind to be utterly _clear,_ all the while walling off his feelings for Obi-Wan. He hated doing it, but what choice did he have? If he was not careful, in moments Qui-Gon would be utterly exposed before this great Master of the Force.

In his mind he locked Obi-Wan in a safe and secret garden, the walls high and impenetrable, the door firmly shut. _Locked_

_Feel….nothing._

_I am **clear** —transparent—_

_Let him **look** into me, but only the surface—_

_Let him see I have nothing to hide._

“Qui-Gon,” Mace Windu intoned. Somehow the Master managed to make his name sound like an accusation. Mace Windu had never liked Qui-Gon much, thinking him mercurial, a maverick. Or did his tone suggest something more?

“Yes, Master Windu?”

“There are several things I must speak to you about, and not in front of others,” Mace Windu said flatly.

_Feel…nothing._

“Yes, Master Windu, of course.”

“I assume you are aware of the issue with Elysia.”

“I know the planet is in civil war.” Qui-Gon was only stating something that everyone in the galaxy knew, as it was blaring daily on the Holonet.

“What you _don’t_ know is that the civil war has gotten a lot more complicated, as the Hutts now have a stake.”

“Backing whom? The royal house or the noble clans?”

“The noble clans, technically. But you know who they are really backing---”

“ _Themselves_ of course.”

Mace Windu nodded. “They hope to pick over the corpse of Elysia. The Chancellor asked us to send someone to observe what is going on, because there is now absolutely no protection for any common citizens on their planet—and there are rumors that there is horrible carnage on both sides. And the _last_ thing that the Republic needs is the Hutts taking over a planet with such resources and with such access to the Trade Routes.”

“Elysia has not allowed outsiders in since the conflict began.”

“Yes.”

“So you are asking me to spy.”

“Observe in secret,” Mace Windu equivocated, then at Qui-Gon’s raised eyebrow, “Spying. _Yes._ It goes without saying, that this mission is exceedingly dangerous. If you are caught—“

“The Chancellor—and the Jedi Order—will have to deny all knowledge of my mission,” Qui-Gon finished for him calmly. “And I will be executed. When do I leave?”

“Within the week. After you have been briefed on the details. I will have Master Azphodel brief you, and she will supply with you some information you will need. Nothing on a datapad, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And you will take Padawan Kenobi with you.”

“Isn’t that somewhat—”

“ _Irregular?_ Yes. Normally I would not allow _any_ Padawan on such a dangerous mission. But Obi-Wan is exceptional.”

“Yes, he is.”

 _Feel…nothing_.

“I meant to speak to you about him—“

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked stupidly.

Qui-Gon forced his breath to be slow, calm.

 _Let him look into me—but only the surface_ \---

“Of course, Obi-Wan,” Mace Windu replied, with only a trace of irritation, “The Masters are constantly speaking about—“

“ _Yes_ —?”

“His absolute excellence!” Mace Windu exclaimed, uncharacteristically enthusiastic, “He has always been considered _exceptional_ , the first among his class, but he has somehow managed to improve still further. I would say, over the last nine months—“

_I am clear—transparent—_

“he has excelled in every domain! His studies, his combat training, his bearing. I cannot even describe it. It is as if he has gone from being merely the best among them, to something quite different—it is like---“

“The brightest star in the dark heavens, now become a blazing sun,” Qui-Gon finished for him.

Mace blinked in surprise, “How…. _poetic_.”

Qui-Gon coughed, uncomfortably.

 _Feel….nothing_.

“But that _is_ indeed true!” Mace exclaimed, “If I had a poetical turn of mind that is just how I would put it. I will be honest, although I always recognized his exceptional gifts, I was not sure he would reach his potential. He was always driving himself too hard, too disconnected from everyone else, and for a while he seemed preoccupied….with _something_. He is difficult to read, that one. Perhaps he was only overly anxious in the drive for excellence. But now, it seems whatever the issue was, it seemed to have resolved itself.”

Qui-Gon only nodded, afraid to comment.

“How _has_ his training changed?” Mace Windu asked suddenly, “The other Masters wish to know, so that they can learn from you.”

Qui-Gon blinked. “Uh, I’m not sure actually—he’s developed on his own—“

“Don’t be modest,” Mace chided, “You cannot have such development without _personal_ involvement of the Master.”

Qui-Gon bit back an impulse to laugh at the choice of words, _Personal._

“All the other Masters are asking about what your methods you are using. You _will_ speak to the other Masters about this. I _insist_.”

“If you insist—“

“You will train them in your techniques. Two of your former Padawans have sat on the Jedi Council, and now, I do not think it is exaggeration to say that you have developed the greatest Padawan of his generation. I will confess, I have no always altogether approved of you—“

_If you knew more of me you would approve of me much less._

“but I have now seen that being unconventional is not a barrier to greatness. Certainly not in your teaching. You will tell me more about your methods once you get over being so modest, I hope. But this brings me to the _next_ thing I wish to speak to you about—“

_As long as it isn’t about Obi-Wan._

“I am sure you know, your close friend, Plo Koon, has always suggested that you sit on the Jedi Council.”

“Plo Koon suggests a lot of strange things—“Qui-Gon said, laughing a little.

“He _does,_ ” Mace Windu conceded, “But this time, I agree with him. I have discussed it with the other members of the Council, and we wish to offer you a seat there.”

“On the Jedi Council?” Qui-Gon asked stupidly.

“No, we wish to give you a seat on the throne of Alderaan!” Mace Windu said good naturedly, “Of _course_ , the Jedi Council! The other Masters agree, that if you are such an _exceptional_ Master to train such an _exceptional_ Padawan, you have _more_ than earned a place there.”

“No,” Qui-Gon said.

Mace Windu frowned, “No, you haven’t earned a place—?“

“No, I will _not_ sit on the Jedi Council.”

“Can I ask _why_?”

“Because I am _unworthy_ of that honor,” Qui-Gon said simply.

“You are being far too modest,” Mace Windu waved his hand, as if dismissing Qui-Gon’s refusal as nothing of concern.

“No, I believe I am being objective.”

“You believe that you know your own worth better than the other Jedi Masters?” Mace Windu challenged, obviously annoyed.

_“Yes.”_

“And your _reason_ —?”

“You are aware of my many flaws, Master Windu—“Qui-Gon began.

“That is a non answer. You _will_ consider sitting on the Jedi Council,” Mace Windu ordered, sharply.

“With all due respect, Master Windu, there is no need to. My answer is final.”

“I do not accept your answer without proper consideration. You _will_ consider it,” Mace Windu said almost as sternly, “And you must get over this false modesty! As the Jedi philosophers say, ‘False modesty is greater arrogance than overweening pride.’”Mace Windu waved his hand again, “You _will_ consider it, and give me a proper answer when you return from Elysia.”

Qui-Gon inwardly sighed.

“As you wish. May the Force be with you,” Qui-Gon said, bowing respectfully.

“And you as well, Qui-Gon.”

After that interview with Mace Windu, Qui-Gon was relieved to be returning to the quarters he shared with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had had combat drills in the morning, but had only studying to do in the afternoon, so Qui-Gon had the happy prospect of being with his Padawan for most of the day.

Prior to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had been determined to give up love, as was proper for the Jedi, and had been determined to be celibate, as was his duty. Qui-Gon had previously failed in that regard, not so much because he wanted sex so much as his heart was moved to love. He had been alienated from his own Master, Dooku, despite the fact that Qui-Gon had tried to obtain a father’s love from his cold and strict Master, so this had driven Qui-Gon to find love from others, and his body had followed wherever his heart had lead. He had known it to be wrong, and had finally resolved to himself that there would be no more love, and certainly no more lovers, as it was not only wrong it diverted his heart and energy from higher things.

But now, despite everything, he had become…. _something_ to Obi-Wan. If not Obi-Wan’s lover, because Qui-Gon still strictly held to the limits he had set, certainly his _love._ And allowing himself to love, and be loved in return, had healed not only Obi-Wan, but also Qui-Gon as well.

Yes, their relationship was _wrong_ , but Qui-Gon was _happy._

He could return home, and Obi-Wan would have datpads from the Jedi library, because he no longer retreated from his Master, and the two of them could study together, side by side, quoting philosophers and then sometimes amusing one another with witty asides; Qui-Gon found that Obi-Wan could always make him laugh when he raised an ironic eyebrow. And then they could would eat together, and talk about things of the day. Qui-Gon had a gift for mimicry and would act out the events of the day so that Obi-Wan could almost believe he was there, and Qui-Gon would imitate so perfectly the prickly arrogance of Master Dooku or the wise voice of Yoda that Obi-Wan would end up holding his sides, pleading for his Master to _stop_ , because his sides hurt from laughing so hard—

Adi Gallia’s voice. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Qui-Gon had become so distracted by his happy thoughts, that he did not notice his friend approach him in the hallway,despite her eye-catching Tholoth headdress with its white plumes.

“For what?”

“Your seat on the Jedi Council. It’s something of an open secret, _sorry!_ ”

“Well, you heard wrong.” Qui-Gon said ironically.

“ _Hardly._ You should have heard the Masters talking about you. They are truly in _awe_ of the work you have done in training your Padawan.”

“They shouldn’t be. It’s easy with a Padawan as gifted as Obi-Wan is,” Qui-Gon said dismissively, “In any case, I already told Mace Windu no.”

“Did he accept your answer?” Adi Gallia asked pointedly, her eyes bright.

“No,” Qui-Gon admitted.

“It’s only a matter of _tie-yime_ —“ Adi Gallia half-sang in jest, “In any case, I would have warned you before Master Windu cornered you, but I couldn’t because I _never_ see you these days. What have you been up to?”

“Training Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said laconically.

“My exact point!” Adi Gallia retorted, triumphantly, “How many Masters have such dedication?”

“I don’t know,” Qui-Gon said, distinctly uncomfortable.

_Feel….nothing._

“Actually, if you don’t mind, I need to return to my quarters,” Qui-Gon said shortly, “I was planning to study with Obi-Wan this afternoon.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Adi Gallia added, with a little bit of a satisfied smile, “Don’t let _me_ stop you. I would hate to interfere with such a training schedule. Oh, and Qui-Gon—“

“Yes?”

“Being a teacher seems to agree with you. If you don’t mind me saying so, you seem happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

“I _am_ happy,” Qui-Gon confessed, then suddenly realizing that he had perhaps revealed too much, quickly added, “I must be off. I will talk with you soon.”

“When we sit together on the Jedi Council, of course—“ Adi Gallia teased.

Qui-Gon laughed, but shook his head, before hurrying off.

When Qui-Gon came in, Obi-Wan looked up and gave his Master a dazzling smile of delight.

“I am glad you are home!” Qui-Gon exclaimed happily, “I was hoping you would be home soon. I made soup. And we still have some of the bread you made—are you hungry?”

“A little,” Qui-Gon admitted, but after he had taken his cloak off and sat himself down at the table, he was suddenly ravenous, and his hunger only increased when he tasted Obi-Wan’s soup.

“This is _delicious_.”

“I am becoming a better cook, now that I care more about food. And that way, you don’t have to do all the cooking—“

“I don’t mind cooking. I like it actually.”

“What type of Master _are_ you?” Obi-Wan teased, “You are _supposed_ to order me to serve you.”

After saying that last statement, it seemed, Obi-Wan realized that his comment could seem suggestive, so he blushed a little, stammering awkwardly, “I _didn’t_ mean—“

“I like when you cook for me,” Qui-Gon put in smoothly, but he was amused at Obi-Wan’s blush. Obi-Wan, usually so cerebral, and so deadly accurate with words, became utterly adorable when he was alone with Qui-Gon and started acting like a boy with his first crush, saying the wrong thing half the time; it made Qui-Gon want to kiss him right then and there.

Qui-Gon thought better of it, and merely took another sip of his soup.

“How did it go with Master Windu?”

“We shall have a mission soon,” Qui-Gon said tersely, “And the Masters all think you quite exceptional, but I think you know that already."

Qui-Gon deliberately left out the part about sitting on the Jedi Council. He did not want to explain to Obi-Wan that he had no choice but to turn the honor down; for how could he sit on the Jedi Council when all the while he had committed an _apechthema_ with his Padawan? If he told Obi-Wan the offer, and the reason that he must refuse it, Obi-Wan perhaps would have felt he had wronged his Master, and Qui-Gon did not want to upset him.

“Well, _you_ are exceptional, so how could I not do well?” Obi-Wan asked indifferently, obviously unimpressed about others raving about him, “But I am happy to go on a mission with _you_. Will we be _alone_?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon said.

“Then I am especially glad,” Obi-Wan said, smiling.

“It is a dangerous mission. I will explain it to you once I have more details.”

“Yes, Master.”

Qui-Gon added, after a moment, “And when we go on missions—“

“I know, I know,” Obi-Wan said, with a trace of exasperated humor, as this was obviously something Qui-Gon had emphasized to him, “ _No_ hand holding, _no_ kissing, _no_ hugging, no— _nothing_.” He finished the last part shyly, not looking at his Master, for he obliquely referring to the exceedingly rare times that Qui-Gon had relieved him of his sexual tension over the last nine months.

“ _Yes_.”

“Am I allowed to give you a loving look?”

“No,” Qui-Gon replied, amused.

“How about a wistful sigh—“

“ _No_. We keep our minds on the mission. The _mission_.”

“What can we do when we get back?” Obi-Wan asked with a grin.

“Let me see—congratulate ourselves on a job well done?” Qui-Gon asked, keeping his face utterly straight.

“I _hate_ you—do you know that?”

“You have a _very_ strange way of showing it,” Qui-Gon said, which made Obi-Wan laugh. Qui-Gon then went on, “But you already heard about my day. How did _you_ spend your time in combat training this morning?”

“Lightsaber drills. Then sparring.”

“How did you do?”

“I didn’t shame myself,” Obi-Wan replied, teasingly, “what, are you _worried_ about that?”

“ _Hardly_. Did you win, as usual?”

“Would you be angry if I didn’t?”

“Of course not, but I would be _surprised_ —“

“I won against the whole class,” Obi-Wan said, “well, _almost_ , because I didn’t go against everyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“ _Milon_ ”

“He wouldn’t go against you?”

“In our bout he made some excuse, he said he had twisted his ankle and he pretended to hobble off. Never looking at me.” Obi-Wan said sadly, “He hasn’t looked at me in _months_.”

“Since the night he tried to kiss you?”

“Well, yes,” Obi-Wan said, seeming a little embarrassed about the whole episode.

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

“No. I keep wanting to, but I’m not sure what to say.”

“Perhaps the words will come to you.”

“Perhaps they will. I didn’t _mean_ to hurt him,” Obi-Wan said regretfully, “I could have been kinder, I think, in my rejection, but I was surprised when he came on so strongly like that, and I was so disconnected with my emotions—it’s no excuse, I know. Every time I think about how _hard_ I pushed him away and how I didn’t even _speak_ to him, I feel terrible.”

“It isn’t your fault, but _mine_ ,” Qui-Gon said, shaking his head, “I made it _easy_ for him to approach you. I saw he was in love with you, and I thought he would be kind to you, and keep you safe—“

“You are _quite_ the matchmaker,” Obi-Wan said humorously, but there was a slight bite to his tone, “Too _bad_ I was already in love with someone else.”

“Whoever could that be?” Qui-Gon asked, pretending to be puzzled.

“Oh, I don’t know if you know him. He’s stubborn. _Infuriating_. Actually, he gets on my nerves. If he wasn’t so _handsome_ —“

“Doesn’t sound like anyone _I_ know,” Qui-Gon countered, with the hint of a smile, but then became serious again, “I want you to speak to Milon, when you can.”

“I will,” Obi-Wan agreed, “No matter what, Milon is my friend. And I understand the pain of unrequited love very well.”

“Do you still understand it?”Qui-Gon asked, smiling at Obi-Wan significantly.

“ _No_ —not so well _anymore_ —“Obi-Wan said, blushing again, “But I understand he is _hurting_. I _will_ talk with him. But I haven’t told you the _best_ part about the sparring today,”

“Which is?”

“I won doing Ataru,” Obi-Wan said significantly, “Not Makashi.”

Qui-Gon lifted his eyebrows, “What, you gave up your favorite elegant form, to do my ridiculous emotional acrobatics?” His question was pointed, as Obi-Wan had never made those criticisms of Ataru lightsaber form to his Master’s face but Qui-Gon well knew what Obi-Wan’s opinion on the instinctual Ataru form had been.

“Well, _you_ look so good doing it,” Obi-Wan retorted, embarrassed that Qui-Gon had bought up his prior criticisms of the Ataru form, “And when you said about all these things about trusting in the Force—“

“And _feeling_ —“ Qui-Gon prompted tenderly.

“I thought I would try,” Obi-Wan finished, “I wasn’t as good as you, of course, the whole thing felt _very_ strange, not being so analytical in my strategy and not being so controlled and defensive but I—I _liked_ it.”

“I bet the other students were _very_ surprised!”

“Yes, they were,” Obi-Wan admitted “After I beat him, Tarquinus actually asked me where the real Obi-Wan Kenobi was, since I was obviously a clone. He _was_ joking, but not really.”

“You will see, Obi-Wan, that to have _emotions_ does _not_ take away from your strength—it makes you _stronger._ You have relied only on your intellect, but if you allow yourself to feel, the feelings will _flow_ through you the same way the Force does, and they will _not_ control you. You will feel them, but they will pass through you, and they will _not_ have power over you,” Qui-Gon said pointedly, “For to be mortal is to have feelings, and if you deny them—they _fester_ , and become _twisted_ —“

“I think I understand,” Obi-Wan said, after a moment.

“You don’t need to understand it here,” Qui-Gon said, reaching over so he could gently tap his Padawan’s forehead with his finger, “You need to understand it _here_ —“ Qui-Gon tapped his Padwan’s heart, “and _here_ —“ he said, tapping Obi-Wan right above the diaphragm.

After touching Obi-Wan Qui-Gon quickly added, “Aren’t we supposed to be studying?” Qui-Gon asked

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan replied, reaching for the soup bowls.

“I can help you—“ Qui-Gon offered.

“Not at all. I know how talking with Master Windu fatigues you,” countered Obi-Wan. “It’s almost as bad as Master Dooku.”

Obi-Wan was gone for a few minutes, and then returned with stacks and stacks of datapads.

“I think Jocasta Nu wants the Jedi Library back,” joked Qui-Gon.

“When you said you wanted me to read the _Eidein_ philosophers, I got all the writings of all the _Eidein_ philosophers. And, well, the proto- _Eidein_ philosophers, and the _Eidein_ influenced philosophers….“

“Enough! Enough!” laughed Qui-Gon, holding up a hand, “I _yield_!”

Obi-Wan sat down with a satisfied smile on his face. “And I’ve read all of the seminal _Eidein_ philosophers. I have read all the writings of Stotelaris and all the writings of Kles Aristo.”

“In _two days_?” Qui-Gon said, raising his eyebrows.

“I was trying to impress you.”

“Impress me then—tell me what Stotlearis said on the division of body and spirit,” Qui-Gon prompted.

“Stotlearis wrote in response to Kles Aristo,” Obi-Wan responded, without the slightest hesitation, “Unlike Kles Aristo, who claimed that the spirit was divided utterly from the body, Stotlearis claimed that the spirit infused the body, indivisible from it in a living being, and that the Force manifested itself through the body through the Spirit.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Qui-Gon said, exceedingly pleased. His Padawan had condensed many pages of dense reading—in truth both Kles Aristo and Stotlearis were fond of archaic language and elevated vocabulary—into a neat and succinct summary.

He looked up to see Obi-Wan looking at him, with a mischievous grin.

“What is it?”

“I’d rather deal with the body than the spirit right now,” Obi-Wan said. He had the good manners to blush as he said it, but he boldly met his Master’s eyes.

“ _No_ ,” Qui-Gon said, amused despite himself, “We said that this week that you were to finish reading— _and_ commenting on—all the _Eidein_ philosophers.”

“Am I not ahead in my studies?” Obi-Wan challenged good naturedly.

“You already _know_ the answer to that, you are _always_ ahead of everyone in your studies,” Qui-Gon said, pretending exasperation.

“And have I not excelled in all my studies? Have the Masters not all said so?” Obi-Wan picked up a lock of his Master’s hair, and curled it around his finger, petting it like a cat. It was done playfully, but there was something somehow seductive about the gesture as well.

“You already _know_ the answer to that as well,” Qui-Gon retorted, “My ears are constantly _ringing_ with your praise. It gets _tiresome_ after a while.”

“Do you know why I am so good at my studies?” Obi-Wan challenged.

“I don’t know—because you are _brilliant_?” Qui-Gon retorted sarcastically, and then demanded, “Let go of my _hair_.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Obi-Wan responded, immediately dropping the lock of his Master’s hair. But then, smiling wickedly, his fingers went up his Master’s voluminous sleeve to caress the tender skin of Qui-Gon’s wrist.

“I excel due to _your_ teaching,” Obi-Wan said softly, “ _And_ your kissing.” He leaned in, and said, barely above a whisper, “I think I could use some kissing now.”

“The _Eidein_ philosophers—“ Qui-Gon began.

“I’ll read two hours tomorrow. _Promise,_ ” Obi-Wan said, leaning in to kiss his Master.

“ _Four_ ,” Qui-Gon corrected primly, before pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s.

Sitting in the common room the datapads strewn between them, the two of them kissed long and passionately, when Qui-Gon finally broke the kiss, he began to stroke Obi-Wan’s white neck, and kiss his cheeks and his brow.

“Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan sighed.

Qui-Gon smothered a laugh, because his formal Padawan sounded like he was thanking him for some unremarkable thing—such as passing a dish of salt—rather than kissing him.

“You are welcome,” Qui-Gon said, before kissing him once more.

“It’s been a long time,” Obi-Wan said wistfully, when Qui-Gon again broke the kiss.

It was a complaint, but a fair one. One of the things that Qui-Gon had insisted upon, with the change in their relationship nine months ago, that the physical things between them be strictly limited, for a number of very practical reasons he had explained to Obi-Wan,

Qui-Gon had, to Obi-Wan’s delight, stated that now when they were alone, they could often hold each other’s hands, and frequently when they retreated to their rooms to eat or study their hands would twine together. When Qui-Gon allowed Obi-Wan to take his hand, Obi-Wan would endearingly be reluctant to let it go; as, for example, when his Master allowed him to study holding hands, Obi-Wan often balanced a datapad carefully in one hand, so while he studied he never needed to let go of his Master’s hand.

But that was usually as far as it went. Qui-Gon allowed kissing—just _kissing_ —about once or twice a month, because he stated that even just kissing each other every night would easily fall into a daily physicality, and there would be no time or energy left over for their intensive Jedi training.

In the same manner, they still kept separate sleep-couches, usually sleeping apart, which was a cause of some grumbling from Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had assumed that being together with Qui-Gon meant that he would now get to sleep beside his Master every night, and was profoundly disappointed that this was not to be the case.

And those times when they went still further—those times when Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan find release—those were yet rarer still. In the entire nine months this had happened only _twice,_ when Qui-Gon sensed his Padawan was full of overwhelming sexual tension and in need of intense closeness to his Master.

It seemed Qui-Gon sensed it now.

“Do you— _need?_ ” Qui-Gon asked carefully.

“I _always_ do,” Obi-Wan admitted, with a rueful grin, “it’s just a matter of degree.”

“Do you want to go back to our sleeping quarters?” Qui-Gon asked.

“ _Yes_.”

But when Qui-Gon clasped Obi-Wan’s hand in his own, Obi-Wan hesitated.

“You don’t _have_ to,” Obi-Wan said, slightly shaking his head, “I know you feel guilty about it, and it is enough just to _kiss_ you.”

“You don’t _want_ to?” Qui-Gon asked.

“You _know_ the answer to that—“Obi-Wan replied helplessly, “But you don’t have to—“

Qui-Gon firmly but gently took Obi-Wan by the hand, and led him from the table back to their sleeping quarters.

In their room, the shades were closed over the transparentsteel window, and the room was only half-lit by the light coming from the hallway. Qui-Gon did not turn on the light.

Qui-Gon suddenly realized he had not secured the outside door to their quarters.

“I forgot to lock the door,” Qui-Gon said, chagrined, giving Obi-Wan a quick kiss, “I’ll be right back.” Left unsaid was the danger; for if someone suddenly decided to pay a surprise visit and walked in on them together, the results to both of them would be ruinous.

“I already locked it,” Obi-Wan confessed suddenly, blushing.

At Qui-Gon’s surprised look, Obi-Wan said, “I _didn’t_ expect—“:

Qui-Gon laughed. “Of course you didn’t.”

Obi-Wan laughed as well at the comment, but then added, a little defensively, “I only hoped for _kissing_ —“

Qui-Gon delicately loosened Obi-Wan’s tunic, and slid it off his shoulders with a rustle. It fell unheeded to the floor.

Qui-Gon sat down on Obi-Wan’s sleep couch, Obi-Wan still standing in front of him. Even though he remained standing, Qbi-Wan completely yielded to his Master’s touch, for he closed his eyes and leaned into his Master’s caresses.

Qui-Gon carefully undid Obi-Wan’s belt, and eased down his pants. Except for his boots and his pants about his legs Obi-Wan was completely naked, his prominent erection presented in front of his Master.

“You don’t _have_ to,” Obi-Wan repeated, this time softly and with less conviction.

“You locked the door,” Qui-Gon teased gently. “Are you absolutely _sure_ you only hoped for _kissing_?”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty—“Obi-Wan protested. He was obviously saying the truth, yet he had closed his eyes again and he was breathing hard, his whole body trembling at the expectation of his Master’s touch

“Locking the door implies some premeditation on your part—“

 _“Don’t_ tease me now,” Obi-Wan said desperately, “ _Please_. I _love_ you. I don’t _want_ to lead you into any wrong. My _intentions_ towards you are only honorable and good. But does it please you to _make_ me confess my failing out loud? I _will_ , then. I _desire_ you. I’ve _tried_ —but it’s no use—I _can’t_ help it--sometimes I think I am going to go out of my _mind_. _Touch_ me. _Please._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon said huskily, feeling badly his playful banter was upsetting, “I won’t tease you any longer. Perhaps I like hearing too much that you want— _this_.”

Qui-Gon finally took Obi-Wan’s penis between his hands. Obi-Wan shuddered, making a loud sound of pleasure.

With a few moments of his Master’s touch, Obi-Wan, now overwhelmingly aroused, forgot about his good intentions of protecting Qui-Gon from his guilt.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, and then slowly but deliberately reached down for Qui-Gon’s belt.

“ _No_ ,” Qui-Gon said softly. He took his hands from Obi-Wan’s penis for a few moments to firmly move his Padawan’s hands away from his belt, before beginning to stroke Obi-Wan again.

“Let me touch you,” Obi-Wan pleaded hoarsely, reaching for his Master’s belt again, His eyes were dark with yearning. “I _need_ to touch you.”

“ _No_ ,” Qui-Gon said quietly. His traitorous body had responded to Obi-Wan’s pleadings, for his own stiffening penis throbbed in response to Obi-Wan’s words, but he was careful not to let any reaction show in his face.

Obi-Wan’s hands were on his Master’s belt. “Or let me _taste_ you,” Obi-Wan said shamelessly. “On Pyades, you let me take you in my mouth---

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, and bit down on his tongue— _hard_ —lest he groan; remembering the way Obi-Wan had pleased his Master with his mouth that night on Pyades. Obi-Wan, being innocent, had previously not known that this was something men sometimes did to pleasure each other, but on realizing his Master would enjoy it, Obi-Wan had been brazen; he had eagerly licked and sucked on Qui-Gon’s penis, his enthusiasm and desire to please more than making up for any lack of experience. Qui-Gon quickly pushed away the memory of Obi-Wan going down on him, for his body, long denied release, was perilously close to an orgasm just by that thought.

Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan’s hands, and pulled them off his belt. He could not speak, his throat was dry, and he feared he would betray himself by his words.

Obi-Wan’s head was thrown back, and he was panting in desire, his eyes pressed tightly closed. His fair skin was so white and supple it caught all the light coming in from the hallway, his mostly naked body shone in the shadow like a sword.

“I love you,” Obi-Wan breathed, “I want to be _one_ with you. _Take_ me. _Please_ —“

Qui-Gon was still holding his Padawan’s hands, holding them so tightly his knuckles were blanched. The moment was horribly suspended between desire and duty; it was as if Qui-Gon was balanced on the point of a knife.

After the slightest of hesitations, Qui-Gon gently but firmly pushed Obi-Wan’s hands away from his body, and then taking Obi-Wan’s erection back between his hands, he stroked his Padawan’s penis firmly and rapidly. In only a few moments Obi-Wan came, crying out as he fiercely ejaculated into his Master’s hands.

Qui-Gon waited until his Padawan’s orgasm subsided, and then he hurried into the ‘fresher, and not just to clean his hands. After washing his hands Qui-Gon splashed cold water on his face, and leaned against the sink, breathing hard, for he was now dangerously close to losing control.

Relieving Obi-Wan in this way, and never allowing himself release, had increased Qui-Gon’s own sexual tension to almost excruciating heights. Knowing that what they did together was abomination, _apechthema_ , Qui-Gon had thought the least dishonorable course would be to only relieve Obi-Wan and deny himself sexual gratification. In that way, Qui-Gon had thought, Obi-Wan would feel loved and connected to his Master, and Qui-Gon, for his part, would at least keep to the Jedi Code by restraining himself.

Qui-Gon had foolishly thought, as he as older, experienced, and philosophical, that any sexual desire he would feel would be tolerable and controllable.

Qui-Gon wanted to laugh. _Tolerable and controllable_. He had been wrong. There seemed now to always be tension in his body, and kissing and caressing Obi-Wan, without actually having sex with him, was now torment.

Qui-Gon had limited their physical intimacies, but not only for the reasons that he had told Obi-Wan. He had reiterated repeatedly to Obi-Wan that they should limit physical things so that their relationship did not become overwhelmed with sheer physicality, and also so that they had energies for their duties as Jedi. These reasons _were_ true, but there was another, more shameful reason why Qui-Gon strictly limited their physical contact, which he did _not_ disclose to Obi-Wan: Qui-Gon hoped that by not continually being stimulated his _own_ sexual tension would decrease.

 _How foolish I was_ , Qui-Gon thought, splashing his face with water again, and then burying his burning face in a dry towel _. No longer how much time is in between….it makes absolutely **no** difference._

Like today. Qui-Gon had carefully explained the limits of their physical contact, and Obi-Wan had agreed that those limits were wise, yet Obi-Wan was also young, with a healthy young male body, and passionately in love with his Master, so Obi-Wan did not always perfectly live up to his good intentions. Today Obi-Wan had apparently been overwhelmed with love and desire, and despite their previous discussions, had asked for more intimate acts than merely being stroked to release.

Asking to pleasure his Master with his _mouth._ Asking to be _penetrated_. Qui-Gon had been careful not to show it to Obi-Wan, but his own reaction to Obi-Wan’s suggestions was shameful and overwhelming.

Qui-Gon was now _ridiculously_ hard.

It had taken every last part of Qui-Gon’s self control to not do exactly as Obi-Wan asked, so now Qui-Gon had absolutely no self control left over.

To his complete and utter self-disgust, Qui-Gon now felt sorely tempted to take out his erection and stroke himself to much needed release right there in the ‘fresher, as if he was a horny adolescent boy, and not a mature Master educated and trained in Jedi philosophy.

Qui-Gon had strictly denied himself for months in both thoughts and actions, but now the sexual tension had become _unbearable_.

 _There would be no harm, surely?_ Qui-Gon rationalized to himself, _It will help me remain disciplined if I could just ease some of the tension. And it would be over in moments._ Despite his supposed self-control, his sexual desire was so high, Qui-Gon knew if he touched himself right now he would have an immediate furious orgasm.

But even as Qui-Gon justified it to himself, his exacting conscience rejected it.

 ** _No_** _. From thoughts, come actions,_ Qui-Gon recited to himself the Jedi saying, _From right thought, comes right actions. From wrong thoughts, wrong actions._

Even if he tried _not_ to think of anything as he masturbated, Qui-Gon _knew_ he would think of Obi-Wan as he came. And although he could tell himself it was a harmless fantasy, sexually relieving himself with his Padawan in his mind was only the smallest step from sexually relieving himself with his Padawan in reality. It was pretending virtue on an almost arbitrary distinction, and like all such false distinctions, would inevitably lead to greater wrong.

It would be so _easy_ to relieve himself by stroking himself thinking about Obi-Wan.

 _But why stop there, you hypocrite?_ Qui-Gon thought to himself scornfully, _you **promised** yourself when you decided to be together that all physical things between you would only be for **him** , and you would never seek to gratify your own desires. If you are going to justify doing **that** with him in your mind, why not just go back into your sleeping quarters, and relieve yourself by having sex with him? At least you would be more **honest** in your transgressions._

Qui-Gon grimaced. He _knew_ if he went back into their sleeping quarters right now and initiated sex with his Padawan, Obi-Wan would yield to him. And doing that would be reprehensible; it would be worse than seduction. His Padawan would not refuse, for not only was he bound to absolute obedience; he loved and utterly trusted his Master.

 _He **trusts** me, _Qui-Gon thought. _I **must** do what is right by him. Even in my mind **.** _

Qui-Gon shook his head, _If I only knew exactly what the right thing **was**. He needs me, yet it is apechthema. Where does the path of honor lie? We are not chaste, yet we are not lovers._

But Qui-Gon knew at least _this_ much; being an utter hypocrite and relieving himself in this sordid and degrading manner, using his Padawan merely as a sexual object for his own satisfaction, even if it was only in fantasy, was not the right thing.

Qui-Gon splashed water in his face again, and took slow deep breaths until he could feel himself regaining control, all the same he took his time, washing his hands yet again, and being leisurely about it, he was afraid to rejoin Obi-Wan too quickly, lest he forget himself.

Qui-Gon walked slowly back into their sleeping quarters, still taking slow deep breaths.

Obi-Wan was lying now on his sleep couch, covered with a blanket. He had apparently also removed his boots and pants along with his tunic. Qui-Gon noted with tender amusement how characteristically Obi-Wan had neatly folded his tunic and pants and placed them on the chair beside the sleep couch, the boots lined up in an orderly fashion beneath. This meant, however, that Obi-Wan was completely naked underneath the coverlet, and with this tousled hair and muscular white shoulders he looked far too desirable for Qui-Gon’s comfort.

“Is anything wrong?” Obi-Wan asked. ‘You took a long time in there.”

“No, nothing,” Qui-Gon said quickly.

“I thought you might be angry with me,” Obi-Wan said suddenly.

“Whatever for?” Qui-Gon asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Asking for _things_ —more than you are willing to give,” Obi-Wan said awkwardly, “I meant what I said—I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s just when you are touching me—it gets me stimulated.” Obi-Wan blushed a little at that admission, but continued to press on, “When I get _that_ way, I start thinking about the things we did together that night on Pyades—and I yearn to do them with you again. I don’t _mean_ to do wrong.”

 _“You_ are not doing anything wrong,” Qui-Gon said, truthfully, for if his Padawan asked Qui-Gon for sexual acts, it was only because he _himself_ had taught Obi-Wan such things.

“I _wish_ I had your self-control,” Obi-Wan confessed, “I _envy_ the way you are able to control yourself so easily.”

“Well, it comes with age,” Qui-Gon said uncomfortably, remembering the way he had wanted to shamelessly relieve himself with his own hand in the ‘fresher only minutes before. If he hadn’t been so disgusted with himself he would have _laughed_.

Qui-Gon kicked off his boots, and crawled next to Obi-Wan on the sleep couch. He was careful to lie on top of the cover, but he pulled his Padawan close, so that Obi-Wan could lay his head on his arm.

Despite everything, the impossibility of the situation, as well as his own sexual tension, Qui-Gon knew that this was happiness. He kissed Obi-Wan on the top of his head, and knew himself happier than he deserved.

But Obi-Wan was not finished. He rolled over to look into his Master’s eyes. “I mean what I say,” Obi-Wan insisted stubbornly, “I don’t want to upset you. And if _you_ can show such self-control, _I_ can too. As long as you don’t abandon me. And— _well_ , if you still let me kiss you.”

Qui-Gon wanted to laugh good naturedly at the last addition, but he knew Obi-Wan was serious.

“I am not going to have you make a promise too difficult to keep,” Qui-Gon said firmly.

“I would keep my word to you,” Obi-Wan swore, “Only say that is what you want, and you need _never_ touch me again. I will never even ask you ever again.”

“I believe you,” Qui-Gon replied, “I have absolutely no doubt in my mind you would always keep your word to me. But I also know that you want— _need_ —closeness from me. I am not so sure that stopping our intimacies wouldn’t _hurt_ you.”

“What we do together hurts _you_ ,” Obi-Wan rejoined.

“Not _hurts_. Wrong word. Makes me full of _self-recrimination_ , perhaps, but not _hurt_ ,” Qui-Gon said lightly. He kissed Obi-Wan again playfully, then jokingly exclaimed, “ _Ouch!_ ” He then added, in the same humorous tone, “Do I seem hurt to you?”

“Please don’t make jokes to try to make me feel better,” Obi-Wan said seriously, “I know that you feel—badly.”

Qui-Gon did not deny it, as it would have been an obvious lie, but said only, “As I said to you when we first decided to be together, we just have to do the best we can. It’s all we _can_ do.”

Obi-Wan rolled back over to rest his head on his Master’s arm, staring at the ceiling morosely.

“And also—you _never_ have—well, what you give me.” Obi-Wan said slowly.

“I do not mind,” Qui-Gon said, and surprisingly he knew it to be the complete truth, because despite any sexual frustration he had, he only wanted Obi-Wan to be _happy_.

Obi-Wan was quiet for a long moment, and then said, “I trust you, Master. But I worry you will get tired of _this_. Tired of _me_. Tired of never getting to have sexual relations, and tired of our relationship being forbidden. You will tell me we must forget about— _this_. And then—and then you will find a _real_ lover of your own.”

“ _No,_ ” Qui-Gon said harshly. He was unpleasantly shocked at Obi-Wan’s negative turn of mind. “Look at me, Obi-Wan,” he demanded.

Obi-Wan rolled back over on his side, his head resting on his Master’s arm, but he did not directly meet his Master’s eyes.

“ _Look_ at me,” Qui-Gon demanded again.

When Obi-Wan tentatively looked into his Master’s eyes, Qui-Gon looked into back into his Padawan’s eyes, and said slowly and deliberately, as if to impress upon Obi-Wan the absolute truth of what he said, “You and I—we are together. That is _all_ that matters. Matters of the flesh are _nothing_. We now share _this_.”He placed his Obi-Wan’s hand over his own heart.

Obi-Wan smiled a little at this, but his eyes were still sad.

“Don’t you hear what my heart is saying?” Qui-Gon said, smiling into his eyes, pressing Obi-Wan’s hand into his chest. “Can you feel it in the beats? It says ‘Obi-WAN, Obi-WAN, Obi-WAN.’”

“I doubt the cardiac pulsations and the turbulence in your valves can actually articulate someone’s name,” Obi-Wan replied concisely, falling back into being the intellectual, but he was smiling a little more genuinely now.

“For once, my _brilliant_ student, you would be wrong,” Qui-Gon corrected him. He took Obi-Wan’s head in his hands and gently placed it on his chest, over his heart. “Listen for yourself _._ ”

Obi-Wan pressed his ear to his Master’s chest. He seemed to listen carefully for a few moments, before raising his head. He cocked his head, as if carefully considering what he had just heard, and then agreed, doubtfully, “ _Perhaps_. Or you merely have a _very_ strange murmur.” But Obi-Wan said it with a teasing undertone to his voice.

“I shall tell you something, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said quietly, “that perhaps will make you understand you have _nothing_ to fear. For when we…found each other, I had not been— _intimate_ with anyone for years. _Many_ years. I had made—mistakes—but I had intended never to disobey the Jedi Code ever again. I had resolved to remain celibate for the rest of my life.”

“Until me.”

“ _Yes_.”

“So you are saying that I hurt you—“ Obi-Wan burst out in distress, “You were attempting to do right, and then I—led you into wrong. I _tempted_ you--”

“ _Tempted_ me?” Qui-Gon said tenderly. He restrained his first impulse to laugh at Obi-Wan’s choice of words, as if his young and previously inexperienced Padawan had seduced _him_. Qui-Gon thought such affectations of being of being a seducer were adorable, but knew Obi-Wan was sensitive about anything characterizing him as anything less than a fully experienced man in terms of sexual relations, so Qui-Gon kept his face very serious.

Qui-Gon was also painstaking with his next words. Looking down at Obi-Wan, with his luminous blue eyes and tousled red gold hair, his mouth slightly swollen from all their passionate kissing, he said, absolutely truthfully, “You are _very_ tempting. But it is all my own doing.”

“And are you sorry?” Obi-Wan asked carefully.

Qui-Gon smiled poignantly. “I know what we do is wrong, but I cannot be altogether sorry. How _could_ I be? I _love_ you.”

“But I’ve _hurt_ you. You just said you were trying to do right, and if I hadn’t kissed you that night of the Sokrateon, and if I hadn’t asked you to let me kiss you on Pyades—“Obi-Wan stumbled on his words, for he had become distraught.

“Then I’d be unhappy now,” Qui-Gon said reassuringly, “You have no cause for guilt, for the Jedi instruction is clear: such _apechthema_ is _always_ the Master’s fault.”

“You _always_ say that---“

“Because it is _true_.”

“You and I both know that you would _never_ —“

“And I _loved_ you. Does it really matter, if you tried to kiss me, when I already loved you? The Jedi would say I was already committing the _apechthema_ in my heart. And I am the Master, I am the one who you must obey, whose duty is to teach, instruct—I have no illusions where the fault between us lies.”

“I _hate_ when you say things like that,” Obi-Wan snapped, “I know you are trying to protect me, but you always make me sound like some idiot _boy_. I _wanted_ you. The fault is mine.”

Qui-Gon cut him off gently, “The Jedi instruction is clear. But let us not argue. I tell you about my prior abstinence not as a matter of guilt on your part. I thought it might make you feel better, to know that for many years I had never expected to ever have a lover again, so I certainly don’t expect to have one _now_.” He squeezed Obi-Wan in his arms, and added tenderly,” I have a _love_ , not a lover.”

Obi-Wan nodded, but after a moment, he said, very quietly, “I wish it were not _apechthema_. I wish I could be your lover.”

Qui-Gon had no simple answer for the pain in Obi-Wan’s voice. Qui-Gon dared not say the truth—that he too, yearned to be Obi-Wan’s lover, to be able to show his love for Obi-Wan by being able to freely make love to him the way he had that night on Pyades. His sexual desire, frequently stimulated by the desirable Obi-Wan but completely constrained and denied an outlet, had increased to excruciating heights, but Qui-Gon longed to make love to Obi-Wan not so much as to relieve this unremitting tension as to be fully and completely intimate with the person he loved.

Qui-Gon loathed, too, the constant need for deception, the constant having to watch his every look and gesture to his Padawan to make sure he did not reveal himself. Yes, _any_ lover for a Jedi was technically forbidden, but so common a failing that to have a lover was something of an open secret, something to which other Jedi and even the Council often would look away in a benign neglect. Qui-Gon, years ago, had had such technically forbidden relationships, and remembered how he had tried to conceal his affection, but had often slipped by some foolish word or look, and remembered the gentle way that his friends and teachers would carefully never comment on an obvious attachment.

But if anyone even so much as thought, even so much as _suspected_ , that a Master and his Padawan had transgressed with such an _apechthema_ , there would be no understanding, no indulgence, and certainly no forgiveness. Qui-Gon now had to watch himself in every word he said, every look he gave his Obi-Wan, and even frequently guarded his thoughts and feelings, as he was surrounded by great Masters of the Force. It was painful to him, too, whenever he knew how Obi-Wan, who was by nature highly ethical and honorable, now had become a master of deception as well.

But Qui-Gon knew if he said any of that, it would only cause Obi-Wan more pain, and perhaps more doubt in Obi-Wan’s mind about Qui-Gon’s ability to tolerate the peculiar relationship they now had.

Qui-Gon felt it was safer to fall back on being Obi-Wan’s teacher, anything else he said would likely be more hurtful to his Padawan. “Happiness lies in being content with what is,” Qui-Gon finally said philosophically, “rather than wishing for what could be.”

Obi-Wan seemed not entirely satisfied with this, but he did not contradict his Master, it seemed he also understood Qui-Gon had no easy answer. He rested his chin against his Master’s chest, stroking his Master’s long hair thoughtfully.

“Master?”

“Yes?”

“How many people _have_ you—“

“Been intimate with, you mean?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Five.”

“Including me?”

“Yes. I can count.”

Obi-Wan did not laugh at the jest. Qui-Gon noted that his Padawan’s expression had become that closed and utterly composed expression that he always assumed when something was upsetting him.

“You only were intimate with me once, so I wasn’t sure if you counted me among your many _conquests_ —“

“Yes, you _count_ , and I never had _conquests_ —“

Ignoring Qui-Gon’s dissent, Obi-Wan went on resolutely, “And you said you wanted to keep to the Jedi Code.”

“Yes, and you can see what an excellent job I have done in that regard,” Qui-Gon said, with a self depreciating laugh.

But Obi-Wan was not distracted by the light-hearted banter. He said stonily, “So then you must have turned down offers to—have sex. You must have had other offers. _Many_ offers.”

“Some,” Qui-Gon reluctantly admitted, then amended, “Uh, not _that_ many. Only a few, really.”

But Obi-Wan sensed the attempt at understatement, and was not placated. “A _few_ ,” Obi-Wan echoed sarcastically.

“Offers don’t count.”

“If you say so,” Obi-Wan said, in the same acerbic tone.

“ _You_ yourself have no lack of offers, if you would bother to notice.”

“We are not talking about _me_ , we are talking about _you_ ,” Obi-Wan countered.

“You are _so_ young,” Qui-Gon said tiredly.

“I fail to see how my age has anything to do with your prior experience,” Obi-Wan said sharply, “But if we are talking about those who you actually had _sex_ with, the current _count_ is three women, and two men, since you had sex with one other man besides me. Do I have that right?”

“Yes.”

“I _see_ ,” Obi-Wan said coldly, “That’s a _lot_.”

Qui-Gon blew out his breath in exasperation. He knew Obi-Wan was speaking out of jealousy and insecurity, but his Padawan would not readily admit it. It would be easier for Obi-Wan to pick apart his Master’s prior experiences with an intellectual analysis, pretending even to himself it was only the objective examination of data. Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan’s sharp comments and biting sarcasm sprung from a deep emotional vulnerability, but all the same Qui-Gon did not care for the cold pretense.

“Perhaps not a lot for a man in general, but certainly for a _Jedi_ ,” Obi-Wan added, in the same cool tone.

“I _completely_ agree,” Qui-Gon said unexpectedly.

At Obi-Wan’s surprised look, Qui-Gon replied, “I was wrong. I never thought what I did was right. Perhaps that makes it worse, that I knew better.”

“So why _did_ you--?”

“ _Stupid_. Lonely,” Qui-Gon said laconically, “And it isn’t Master Dooku’s fault—but I was never close to him. I had no emotional connection to him, so I was susceptible to other connections.”

“And you wanted to have emotional connections,” Obi-Wan finished, in a clipped tone.

“Yes.”

“Were you in love?” Obi-Wan asked, seemingly indifferently, as if merely inquiring into the facts of the matter, but Qui-Gon was not fooled.

Qui-Gon answered carefully, but honestly, “I could never have sex with someone I did not love, Obi-Wan. I am not made like that.”

Obi-Wan was silent for a while. He finally said, slowly, “If you were—in love--then why did your relationships—end?”

“Different reasons. Padawan guilt. Duties that separated us. Once—“ Qui-Gon seemed as if he would say more, but then fell silent, “That is not important. But know this—I _never_ abandoned anyone I loved. _Never_.”

Obi-Wan was still resting his chin on his Master’s chest, so Qui-Gon could see his expression even in the fairly dim light, and it was totally cold and detached, but Qui-Gon could feel the tension in his Padawan’s body, and knew he was extremely upset.

“Are you _okay_?” Qui-Gon asked directly.

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan replied calmly. But his voice was strange; it sounded hollow, distant.

Qui-Gon did not like Obi-Wan’s expression or tone of voice at all. It was as if Obi-Wan had retreated to some remote planet where Qui-Gon could not reach him.

“Are you _sure_ you are not upset?” Qui-Gon pressed.

“Not at all. Why _would_ I be? I was just _curious_ —“

“Obi-Wan, I need you to come back to me,” Qui-Gon said quietly.

“Whatever _do_ you mean?” Obi-Wan inquired, frowning.

Rather than intellectually challenge his Padawan, Qui-Gon spoke directly to Obi-Wan’s feelings.

“I love you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said softly, looking down into his Padawan’s face.

At this declaration of love, it was almost as if Obi-Wan had been struck. The tension in his body eased, but his lips trembled. His face was vulnerable, and it seemed as if he had to struggle to speak, as he was overwhelmed with emotion.

Finally, after a moment, Obi-Wan spoke. His voice had utterly changed. Gone was the cold clipped fluency, his words now hesitant and soft.

“I know I must seem a child—but you are _everything_ to me. It hurts me to think of you loving someone else. I want _every_ part of you. I don’t want to share you with anyone. And if I think of you doing— _doing_ —“ Obi-Wan cut himself off, “I can’t even _think_ of it. It hurts too much. I _can’t_ be mature about it. I just— _can’t_.”

Qui-Gon felt a profound tenderness for his Padawan, concerned for his jealousy and pain. And at the same time he was relieved at this confession, because Obi-Wan was now allowing himself to be fully present with his Master, rather than doing what he usually did, which was to detach himself from all feeling and live completely in his mind.

 _Our relationship is forbidden, and what we do together is wrong, yet it **helps** him--_Qui-Gon thought wondrously.

He kissed Obi-Wan gently in the brow. “I _am_ sorry, Obi-Wan” Qui-Gon said tenderly “If I knew it would have caused you so much pain—I would have waited for you.”

“I’m _sure_ you would have,” Obi-Wan said harshly, but his attempt at sarcasm had no bite, it was obvious he was profoundly hurt, “After all, you were so much “ _in love”_ —with _all_ of them.“

“But perhaps you need me more,” Qui-Gon said quietly, “Perhaps this is karmic justice for my being so quick to flout the Jedi Code- that I must live with hurting you. I don’t know. But I _do_ know you will be the _last_ person I will ever make love to, Obi-Wan. My _last_. That _is_ something.”

Obi-Wan startled, half sitting up, and stared, wide-eyed at his Master. “You speak of _death_.”

“ _Everyone_ dies,” Qui-Gon replied gently, “that is the way of all things.”

“Not _you,_ ” Obi-Wan insisted, like a child.

“If you say so,” Qui-Gon agreed, but he was smiling.

“I _do_ ,” Obi-Wan insisted, stubbornly, and leaned down to kiss his Master again.

When Obi-Wan broke the kiss “But do not send me from you, Master. _Ever_.”

“I will _never_ abandon you. But someday you will be a Knight. Then it will be different—“

“My feelings will _not_ change.”

“You are _so_ young,” Qui-Gon said, shaking his head. “Things always change.”

“You are _wrong_ ,” Obi-Wan corrected him, “I will _never_ love anyone—but _you_.”

“Heavy words, for such a young man,” Qui-Gon said, gently teasing, running his finger down Obi-Wan’s nose.

Obi-Wan crinkled his nose, “That _tickles._ You’ll make me sneeze in a second. But you don’t believe me, do you?”

“That you might sneeze?” Qui-Gon said lightly.

“That I will love only you,” Obi-Wan said gravely.

“I do believe you,” Qui-Gon said quietly, “but it makes me sad.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I am old, Obi-Wan—“

“Not _this_ again! You are _mature_ —“

“Mature then,” Qui-Gon conceded, with a grin. “ _Very_ mature. I hope you live for many years when I am gone, and feel it in your heart to love—“

“I won’t be able to stand it if you talk this way!” Obi-Wan snapped, sitting up from the bed angrily and turning his back on his Master. “First you talk about –dying—and now you are talking about me finding another lover _again_! I can’t _bear_ it—“

Obi-Wan’s tone was sharp, but Qui-Gon could tell his Padawan was not so much angry as hurt. Qui-Gon sat up as well, and gently caressed his Padawan’s shoulder.

“I am not talking about finding a lover, although that may happen again for you someday—“

“ _Never_.”

“I am talking about your ability to _love_ ,” Qui-Gon said significantly, “Even if you _do_ keep to the Jedi Code and remain celibate, my hope for you is that your heart is open. That when I am…gone, you do not forget about your feelings. That you have friends, that you have the ability to _care_ for others, including being able to care for your own Padawan.”

Obi-Wan was silent, tracing the edge of the coverlet with his finger.

“I don’t think I’m capable of loving anyone else,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, “It’s like I learned to feel everything through you. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” Qui-Gon said. He understood, even if Obi-Wan did not, what his Padawan’s early inability to emotionally attach had done to him.

“So I don’t know _what_ would happen to me—if something happened to you,” Obi-Wan added, in a low voice.

Feeling a profound tenderness towards Obi-Wan, he leaned in and softly kissed him on the nape of his neck, and the curve of his shoulder.

At the kisses, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and shuddered, “You shouldn’t do that,” he said, very softly.

“You are right. I am sorry,” Qui-Gon said, mortified to realize that what he had just done was unintentionally seductive. He pulled up the blanket over Obi-Wan’s naked upper body, and then just pulled him close. Obi-Wan did not turn around, but leaned back into his Master’s arms, resting his chin against Qui-Gon’s forearms.

“Can I sleep with you a little?” Obi-Wan asked tentatively.

“A nap in the middle of the day? How _decadent!_ How about reading the _Eidein_ philosophers? What sort of Master would I be if I allowed a nap?”

“The best of all Masters. Which you are,” Obi-Wan said seriously.

“Well, when you put it _that_ way—you have convinced me,” Qui-Gon said kindly, “Lay back now.”

Obi-Wan settled in happily into his Master’s arms. He still did not turn around, but maneuvered to be cuddled with his back pressed into his Master’s body. Despite the coverlet between them their bodies were pressed very close.

“Would I be a terrible person if I said that lying here with you like this makes me want to make love with you now?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No,” Qui-Gon said, kissing him on the top of the head, “But you know we should not.”

“Yes, I _know_ ,” Obi-Wan agreed. He yawned, “I _wish_ you would let me sleep with you every night. When you hold me, I can fall asleep so easily. Even though I still want you.”

Qui-Gon said nothing about wanting, because he would have revealed too much of his own yearning, so he said only, “Sleep then.”’

Obi-Wan was quiet for a minute, so Qui-Gon thought he had drifted off, but then Obi-Wan spoke again.

“I _love_ you,” Obi-Wan said, “Nothing bad can never happen to you.”

“I don’t intend for anything bad to happen to me, so don’t worry. Just go to sleep,” Qui-Gon said lightly.

But as Obi-Wan drifted off to sleep in his arms, Qui-Gon had a shade over his heart.

He thought of what Obi-Wan had said. _I don’t know what would happen to me—if something happened to you._

 _If I l **ove** him enough—perhaps that will nurture the feeling part of him. So he will remain **whole** when I am gone, _Qui-Gon thought _._

Qui-Gon should have been comforted, for what was the likelihood of something happening to him in the next few years? He would have enough time with Obi-Wan.

But somehow that thought did not comfort him, instead he had a deep and inexplicable foreboding.

Unable to sleep, Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan close to him, as if he could protect his Padawan from everything that was to come.


End file.
